A Merry Devil - Launcelot Gobbo in the Merchant of Venice A Merry Devil: Launcelot Gobbo in The Merchant of Venice From The Fools of Shakespeare by Frederick Warde. London: McBride, Nast & Company. In that delightful comedy, "The Merchant of Venice," we have a type of the shrewd but ignorant serving man, or boy, drawn on the same lines as Launce and Speed in "The Two Gentlemen of Verona," and the two Dromios, in "The Comedy of Errors," but apparently younger and less matured than either of them. His name is Launcelot Gobbo, a fact of which he is somewhat proud. He has a crude philosophy and a rude kind of wit. He uses big words and misapplies them most ingenuously. He is good-natured, full of fun, and rejoices in a practical jest. Launcelot is the servant to Shylock, a wealthy Jewish merchant and money lender of Venice, with whom he lives and of whom he stands in wholesome awe.

His fun-loving nature, however, has served to brighten the dull and dreary home of that stern and revengeful gentleman, a fact that Jessica, the Jew's daughter, frankly acknowledges in her first interview with the boy. Our house is hell, and thou a merry devil Did'st rob it of some taste of tediousness. Launcelot does not appear until the second scene of the second act of the comedy, when we find him stealthily leaving his master's house. We learn that he feels aggrieved at some apparent wrong at the hands of his employer, and is debating whether to remain in his service, or to run away. His soliloquy or self-argument on the point is most entertaining. He would be just, but being both plaintiff and defendant, as well as advocate and judge of the question at issue, he can scarcely be credited with impartiality. However, the motives that he frankly acknowledges, and the reasons he advances are most delightfully human, and most humorously expressed. The entire passage is a quaint, and by no means unnatural, self-contention between duty and inclination; the conclusion, as a matter of course, being in favor of inclination.

Certainly, my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master: the fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, saying to me, "Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away." My conscience says - "No; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo; or," as aforesaid, "honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy heels." - Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the fiend; away, says the fiend; for the heavens rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run.

Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me - "my honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son" - or rather an honest woman's son; - for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, - he had a kind of taste; - well, my conscience says - Launcelot, budge not;" "budge," says the fiend; budge not," says my conscience. Conscience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well; to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew, my master, who, Heaven bless the mark! is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself: certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation, and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew : the fiend gives the more friendly counsel! I will run; fiend, my heels are at your commandment, I will run.

However, Launcelot does not run; he is spared that violence to his conscientious scruples by the unexpected advent of his father, an old Italian peasant, whose voice is heard calling in the distance, and halts the would-be runaway. Launcelot's decision of character is not very marked, nor his resentments very strong, for in a moment his wrongs are forgotten, and he is designing a practical jest on his aged parent.

"O heavens!" he exclaims, "this is my true-begotten father; who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel-blind, knows me not: - I will try confusions with him." Old Gobbo, bent with age, almost blind, and feeling his way by the aid of a staff, hobbles on the scene; he carries a small basket on his arm, and in a voice of "childish treble" cries: "Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?" Launcelot takes the old fellow by the shoulders, and turns him first to the right, then to the left, and finally completely round, giving him the following, somewhat confusing directions: "Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down directly to the Jew's house." Small wonder that the old man exclaims: "By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit." However, he is seeking and most anxious to find his son, and as soon as he has recovered from the jolting he has received at the

 hands of his demonstrative informant, he asks him the following most extraordinary and confusing question: "Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him, or no?" This is excellent matter for the boy to try confusions with, so he answers question with question, prefacing it, however, with an aside, "Mark me now; now will I raise the waters.

Talk you of young Master Launcelot?" But the old man will not admit that his son is entitled to the dignity of "Master" Launcelot: so that eccentric young gentleman, who certainly has a novel sense of humor, tells him that his son is dead.

The sincere grief of the old man evidently shames the boy, for he quickly changes his tone, and asks: "Do you know me, father?" Old Gobbo pitifully replies: "Alack, sir, I am sand blind; I know you not." This induces some shrewd observations from Launcelot, which are worthy of note: "If you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child." Launcelot then kneels down with his back to his father, and continues: "Give me your blessing: truth will come to light, murder cannot be hid long, a man's son may, but in the end truth will out." The old man has been deceived once and hesitates; upon which Launcelot exclaims with some impatience: "Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be." Still the old man is not convinced, and protests: "I cannot think you are my son." To which Launcelot answers: "I know not what I shall think

 of that; but I am sure Margery, your wife, is my mother." This is conclusive, and Old Gobbo proceeds to lay his hand upon his son's head to give him his blessing; but Launcelot having knelt with his back towards him, the paternal hand encounters the back of the boy's head which is crowned with a luxurious growth of hair, and causes the old man to exclaim: "Lord worshipp'd might he be!

what a beard thou hast got: thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin, my fill-horse, has on his tail." Which informs us, that though "exceeding poor," Gobbo is sufficiently well off to own a shaft horse, and as he subsequently states, he has brought a dish of doves as a present to Launcelot's master, we may infer that he and his wife Margery cultivate a piece of ground, or a small farm outside the city; and possibly raise pigeons and doves, a not uncommon industry among the Italian peasantry. Having established his identity with his father, Launcelot proceeds to tell him of his intention to run away from the Jew's service, and we gather his reason to be, that he does not get sufficient food to satisfy his youthful appetite; but perhaps the fact that the Lord Bassanio is engaging servants, and giving them "rare new liveries," may be the temptation. The contemptuous reference to the Jewish race by this ignorant boy, and his vulgar pun on the word Jew are significant indications of the general prejudice against the Jews at this period; not only in Venice, but in all parts of the civilized world.

Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground. My master's a very Jew; give him a present! give him a halter; I am famish in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come; give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who indeed gives rare new liveries; if I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. - O rare fortune! here comes the man: - to him, father; for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer. The interview between Old Gobbo, his son, and the Lord Bassanio is delightfully entertaining. Launcelot's usual volubility halts in the presence of the young nobleman, and his father's assistance becomes necessary to prefer the suit "impertinent" to himself, and express "the very defect of the matter." However, the suit is granted, and Launcelot is instructed to take leave of his old master, and report at the lodgings of his new employer.

The self-satisfaction of Master Launcelot at his success is most humorously expressed, and with an egotism equally amusing; while his optimistic views of the future, obtained from the lines in his hand, indicate a confidence in the science of palmistry, which the author evidently does not share. Father, in. - I cannot get a service, no; I have ne'er a tongue in my head. - Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book! - I shall have good fortune. - Go to, here's a simple line of life; here's a small trifle of wives; alas! fifteen wives is nothing! eleven widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one man; and then to 'scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life from the edge of a feather bed, - here are simple 'scapes. Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. - Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

Notwithstanding his scruples of conscience that caused him so much anxiety, when we first met him, Launcelot has not been entirely loyal to his master, and on leaving we find him secretly bearing a letter from Jessica, the Jew's daughter, to her young Christian lover, Lorenzo. The missive requires a reply which Launcelot obtains verbally, and the cunning young rascal cleverly manages to convey it to the young Jewess, while bearing an invitation to her father, from his new master, Bassanio. His words are not brilliant, but serve to indicate his ingenuity. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye. Launcelot accompanies his new master to Belmont, where on our next meeting we find him comfortably installed; very much at home, and in a new livery. He is still bandying words with Jessica, who is now the wife of Lorenzo, and, in the absence of Portia, mistress of the house. His self-esteem seems to have grown in his new service, his vocabulary has increased, and he speaks with more authority, but with the same unfortunate propensity for punning.

He is obviously favored by his "betters," and like many others of small mind takes advantage of that fact to speak with a freedom that is not entirely devoid of impudence. However, his humor atones for much, and his good-nature accomplishes the rest. The dialogue quoted (with some slight eliminations) below takes place in the garden of Portia's house (Act 3, Scene 5). It is apparently the continuation of a discussion of the old theme of Jessica's parentage, and her father's sins; Launcelot taking a literal view of the scriptural precept in her case. Laun. Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, I fear you. I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter; therefore, be of good cheer; for, truly, I think thou art damned. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good. Jess. And what hope is that, I pray thee? Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that you are not the Jew's daughter. Jess. So the sins of my mother should be visited on me.

Laun. Truly then I fear you are damned both by father and mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother; well, you are gone both ways. Jess. I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian. Laun. Truly, the more to blame he; we were Christians enow before; e'en as many as could well live, one by another. This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all to be porkeaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money. The entrance of Lorenzo puts an end to Launcelot's calamitous predictions, and that gentleman having little appreciation of the latter's verbal fooling, directs him. "Go in, sirrah: bid them prepare for dinner." To which the irrepressible Launcelot replies: "That is done, sir; they have all stomachs." With some impatience, Lorenzo exclaims: "Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper art thou!

then bid them prepare dinner." This does not discourage the boy, who responds: "That is done too, sir; only, cover is the word." Lorenzo, with some irritation, seeks to bring this equivocation to a close, and now gives his directions with emphasis: "I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain meaning; go to thy fellows, bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner." The imperturbable self-esteem and good-nature of Launcelot is proof, however, against censure or sarcasm; and with unruffled gravity he replies with humorous iteration: "For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humors and conceits shall govern." And having thus delivered himself, Launcelot makes a dignified exit from the scene. Lorenzo's apostrophe to Launcelot's discourse is an admirable summary of the shallow mind, that mistakes the mere jugglery of words for wit.

It was a favorite method of Shakespeare's to furnish humor in his "simples" and serving men, and proved an amusing diversion in their mouths: but, in others, it is the unconscious tribute that ignorance and incapacity pays to knowledge and distinction. Lor. O dear discretion, how his words are suited! The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words; and I do know A many fools that stand in better place, Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word Defy the matter. Launcelot makes one more brief appearance, to announce the early return of Bassanio to Belmont, and as a harbinger of glad tidings we leave him in the service of a noble master and a gracious mistress. The business of the Shakespearean clowns is traditional. It has been handed down by comedians from generation to generation. It was familiar to every stage manager of experience, in the days of the resident stock company; and any departure from the conventional business of these parts was, until recently, viewed with disapproval, and regarded as presumption. A most interesting and unique performance of Launcelot Gobbo was given some years ago by that sterling character actor, Mr.

Robert Peyton Carter, so long associated with Miss Maude Adams. I was the Shylock of the performance to which I refer. Mr. Carter's Launcelot was not a boy, but a humorous and mischievous young man. At no time during the performance, even when trembling with fear before his master, was a smile absent from his face; with this result, the audience were smiling all the time Launcelot was in view. You knew, as you looked at him during his self-argument between duty and inclination, that his mind was already made up to run away, and that his conscientious scruples (if he really ever had any) were overcome before he uttered them. His practical jest with his father, when he misdirects him to the Jew's house, indicated that it was but a sample of the pranks the young man had played upon him all his life, and the bright twinkle in his eyes as his young mistress called him "a merry devil" connoted a thousand tricks that the young rascal had played during the term of his service in the Jew's house and robbed that somewhat dreary residence of its "taste of tediousness." Mr.

Carter's business on the delivery of Jessica's letter to Lorenzo was original and good; his exaggerated obeisance to the several friends in company with that gentleman being particularly characteristic and happy. In the last act of the comedy, too frequently omitted in representation, Mr. Carter's appreciation of Shakespearean humor was manifest. The importance of his new employment, his vanity in his "rare new livery," and confidence of privileged service were delightfully presented, and rounded out a performance as notable as it was consistent and effective. "The Merchant of Venice" held an important place in the repertoire of the late Mr. Richard Mansfield. In discussing the various characters in the play with that distinguished gentleman, he told me he considered the Launcelot Gobbo of Mr. A. G. Andrews, of his company, the best he had ever seen. It did not surprise me, for I knew Mr. Andrews to be a thorough and painstaking artist, studying out to the most minute detail every point of his make-up, costume and business. Mr. Andrews presented Launcelot as a boy to whom life was a very serious problem.

His costume was extremely characteristic; his doublet and trunks were worn and patched, his hose seamed and darned, and his sandal-shoes with their leather straps had seen service hard and long. He made his first entrance from his master's house hastily, then looked round fearfully and, finding himself unobserved, sat down upon the door-step and seriously held self-communion as to the justice of leaving his master's service. In other respects he followed the traditional business of the part; but nothing was exaggerated, rather subdued; his object being to present Launcelot as a possible human being, and not an impossible clown, as many comedians have done. The humor of the part was always present, never intruded, but conveyed naturally and without effort: the result being a well proportioned and artistic performance. How to cite this article: Warde, Frederick. The Fools of Shakespeare. London: McBride, Nast & Company, 1915. Shakespeare Online. 20 Feb. 2011. (date when you accessed the information) < >. ______ Lancelot Gobbo’s Hunchback | Jeffrey R.

Wilson Lancelot Gobbo’s Hunchback Launcelot Gobbo, a clown, servant to Shylock. The Merchant of Venice, dramatis personae In Italian, the word gobbo means “hunchbacked,” and some scholars have squeezed this term to suggest that the Launcelot Gobbo of The Merchant of Venice is, like Richard III and Caliban, physically deformed. It must be said that this reading receives no support from the text; Shakespeare does not thematize deformity with Gobbo as he does with Richard and Caliban, although, formally speaking, Gobbo does occupy a place in the structure of the play similar to that of Shakespeare’s stigmatized characters, not only Richard and Caliban, but also Falstaff and indeed Shylock himself. Like Shylock, who may or may not have been stigmatized with an artificial nose on the Elizabethan stage, Gobbo may or may not have been played as a hunchback: the keynote of stigma in The Merchant of Venice is uncertainty.

Yet, after the question of a visible physical abnormality represented in their costumes comes up empty, it can be noted that both Shylock and Gobbo do exhibit the other elements in what I have called the figure of stigma : villainy, irony, and tragicomedy. Gobbo’s villainy is clearly a different brand than Shylock’s. If Shylock points back to the vengeful violence of Richard, Gobbo points forward to the merry mischief of Falstaff, the latter pair being the kind of villain who recalls the etymology of that word, villain, from the Latin villa, “country house,” making a villain a low-born and base-minded social inferior like Gobbo. As for irony, both Shylock and Gobbo collude with the audience, Shylock with his tragic soliloquies, and Gobbo with his comic asides. That is, between Shylock and Gobbo, the one is a bit more tragic, the other a bit more comic, but both contain the essence of tragicomedy that is always an element of stigma in Shakespeare’s plays, as represented by the shared fate of these two characters.

Each is a tragicomic remainder in a relentless romantic comedy, each being included in but alienated from the supposedly sacred societies established at the end of The Merchant of Venice - Shylock a Jewish convert in Christian Venice, Gobbo an unmarried man in the otherwise completely conjugal Belmont. Because Shylock and Gobbo mirror each other, and each is possibly but not certainly stigmatized in his body, it is tempting to think that Shakespeare did indeed have the concept of stigma in mind as he was crafting these characters, though we have no stable footing on this issue, which is exactly the point. Gobbo’s hunchback and Shkylock’s nose are both question marks. In The Merchant of Venice, as in life, the origins of stigma are beset with uncertainty, its operation with uneasiness, and its outcome with a mixture of happiness and sadness. Context Physical Deformity in Shakespeare Bibliography Gilbert, Miriam. “The Problem of Launcelot Gobbo.” Shakespeare at Stratford: The Merchant of Venice. London: The Arden Shakespeare, 2002. 67-79. Drakakis, John. “Present Text: Editing The Merchant of Venice.” Presentist Shakespeares.

Ed. Hugh Grady and Terence Hawkes. Abington: Routledge, 2007. 79-95. SparkNotes: The Merchant of Venice: Character List The Merchant of Venice Plot Overview Analysis of Major Characters Shylock - A Jewish moneylender in Venice. Angered by his mistreatment at the hands of Venice’s Christians, particularly Antonio, Shylock schemes to eke out his revenge by ruthlessly demanding as payment a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Although seen by the rest of the play’s characters as an inhuman monster, Shylock at times diverges from stereotype and reveals himself to be quite human. These contradictions, and his eloquent expressions of hatred, have earned Shylock a place as one of Shakespeare’s most memorable characters. Read an in-depth analysis of Shylock. Portia - A wealthy heiress from Belmont. Portia’s beauty is matched only by her intelligence. Bound by a clause in her father’s will that forces her to marry whichever suitor chooses correctly among three caskets, Portia is nonetheless able to marry her true love, Bassanio.

Far and away the most clever of the play’s characters, it is Portia, in the disguise of a young law clerk, who saves Antonio from Shylock’s knife. Read an in-depth analysis of Portia. Antonio - The merchant whose love for his friend Bassanio prompts him to sign Shylock’s contract and almost lose his life. Antonio is something of a mercurial figure, often inexplicably melancholy and, as Shylock points out, possessed of an incorrigible dislike of Jews. Nonetheless, Antonio is beloved of his friends and proves merciful to Shylock, albeit with conditions. Read an in-depth analysis of Antonio. Bassanio - A gentleman of Venice, and a kinsman and dear friend to Antonio. Bassanio’s love for the wealthy Portia leads him to borrow money from Shylock with Antonio as his guarantor. An ineffectual businessman, Bassanio proves himself a worthy suitor, correctly identifying the casket that contains Portia’s portrait. Gratiano - A friend of Bassanio’s who accompanies him to Belmont. A coarse and garrulous young man, Gratiano is Shylock’s most vocal and insulting critic during the trial.

While Bassanio courts Portia, Gratiano falls in love with and eventually weds Portia’s lady-in-waiting, Nerissa. Jessica - Although she is Shylock’s daughter, Jessica hates life in her father’s house, and elopes with the young Christian gentleman, Lorenzo. The fate of her soul is often in doubt: the play’s characters wonder if her marriage can overcome the fact that she was born a Jew, and we wonder if her sale of a ring given to her father by her mother is excessively callous. Lorenzo - A friend of Bassanio and Antonio, Lorenzo is in love with Shylock’s daughter, Jessica. He schemes to help Jessica escape from her father’s house, and he eventually elopes with her to Belmont. Nerissa - Portia’s lady-in-waiting and confidante. She marries Gratiano and escorts Portia on Portia’s trip to Venice by disguising herself as her law clerk. Launcelot Gobbo - Bassanio’s servant. A comical, clownish figure who is especially adept at making puns, Launcelot leaves Shylock’s service in order to work for Bassanio.

The prince of Morocco - A Moorish prince who seeks Portia’s hand in marriage. The prince of Morocco asks Portia to ignore his dark countenance and seeks to win her by picking one of the three caskets. Certain that the caskets reflect Portia’s beauty and stature, the prince of Morocco picks the gold chest, which proves to be incorrect. The prince of Arragon - An arrogant Spanish nobleman who also attempts to win Portia’s hand by picking a casket. Like the prince of Morocco, however, the prince of Arragon chooses unwisely. He picks the silver casket, which gives him a message calling him an idiot instead of Portia’s hand. Salarino - A Venetian gentleman, and friend to Antonio, Bassanio, and Lorenzo. Salarino escorts the newlyweds Jessica and Lorenzo to Belmont, and returns with Bassanio and Gratiano for Antonio’s trial. He is often almost indistinguishable from his companion Solanio. Solanio - A Venetian gentleman, and frequent counterpart to Salarino. The duke of Venice - The ruler of Venice, who presides over Antonio’s trial.

Although a powerful man, the duke’s state is built on respect for the law, and he is unable to help Antonio. Old Gobbo - Launcelot’s father, also a servant in Venice. Tubal - A Jew in Venice, and one of Shylock’s friends. Doctor Bellario - A wealthy Paduan lawyer and Portia’s cousin. Doctor Bellario never appears in the play, but he gives Portia’s servant the letters of introduction needed for her to make her appearance in court. Balthasar - Portia’s servant, whom she dispatches to get the appropriate materials from Doctor Bellario. More Help Launcelot Gobbo Launcelot Gobbo Launcelot Gobbo is a quick-witted young fellow who is originally Shylock’s servant. Badly-fed in that household, he switches his allegiance to Bassanio. He is friendly with Jessica, whom he teases remorselessly about her Jewishness. A trickster, he also teases his blind father, pretending to be someone else, and not letting him complete his sentences when they are asking Bassanio to take him into his service.

On his last day at Shylock’s, he serves as go-between for Jessica and Lorenzo. He follows Bassanio to Belmont, and remains there with Lorenzo and Jessica. Lancelot in The Merchant of Venice NEXT Character Analysis Lancelot is a clown and a servant—first Shylock's and then Bassanio's. Like all Shakespearean clown figures, Lancelot's job is to fool around, make smart-alecky comments, and bag on all the other characters in the play. When Lancelot leaves Shylock's "hell" house to serve Bassanio, we're reminded of how awful it is to live with Shylock (for Lancelot and for Jessica). Old Gobbo | Shakespeare Wiki | Fandom powered by Wikia Share Ad blocker interference detected! Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected. Old Gobbo is the father of Launcelot Gobbo, the clown in The Merchant of Venice.

Although he only appears in a brief comedic segment in Act II, Scene II, we find out quite a bit about him; his wife (Launcelot's mother) is named Margery, and he owns a "fill-horse", or plow horse, implying that he may be a farmer. His first name is unknown, but it's possible that his son is named after him; Launcelot's name in the quartos and folios is "Launcelet" (diminutive, meaning "little Launce"), and he refers to himself specifically as "young Master Launcelot", so his father could be "old Launcelot" as well as "old Gobbo." (This isn't necessarily the case; it may have been customary to indicate the age of the person spoken of.

Launcelot later refers to Bassanio as his "young master", although he could be insultingly contrasting Bassanio with Shylock, the latter being his "old master" in both senses of the word.) According to Launcelot, Old Gobbo "did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste..." The meaning of these lines is somewhat unclear, but they appear to point to a tendency towards infidelity, and perhaps a penchant for cheating and trickery in other matters. When Old Gobbo shows up, he appears to be rather feeble--he is "sand-blind" (as opposed to stone-blind, which at the time meant "completely blind"--although Launcelot believes that a better term would be "gravel-blind") and doesn't recognize his own son. Launcelot is at first delighted and practices trickery on his father's blindness, but he soon becomes perplexed when his father continues not to recognize him, and then frustrated as he attempts to convince him of his own identity. When Launcelot proves himself to be Gobbo's son by mentioning that "Margery, your wife, is my mother", the two are happily reunited.

Old Gobbo is delighted to find that his son has grown an impressive "beard"; according to theater tradition, he has accidentally seized upon Launcelot's long hair, and Launcelot has little or no beard at all. Launcelot informs his father that he plans on running away from his master, Shylock , unless he can get a position among Bassanio's servants; finding that Old Gobbo has brought a "dish of doves", he encourages him to give them to Bassanio, instead. At this moment Bassanio happens along with several of his servants. Father and son attempt to explain the situation to him, with Launcelot simultaneously encouraging Gobbo to do the talking and interrupting everything he says. Finally, Bassanio tells Launcelot that Shylock has already recommended him as a servant, and tells Old Gobbo to accompany Launcelot to Shylock's house to take his leave. Launcelot walks away with his father, and, although Launcelot recurs, Old Gobbo makes no more appearances in the play.

Merchant of Venice Act 2 Summary and Analysis | GradeSaver Buy Study Guide Act II, Scene One The Prince of Morocco meets with Portia and tells her that he is often considered very handsome on account of his black skin. She tells him that unfortunately she does not have the right to choose the man who will marry her. Instead, her father created three caskets from among which each suitor must choose. Portia warns the Prince that if he chooses the wrong casket, he must swear to never propose marriage to a woman afterwards. The Prince of Morocco agrees to this condition and joins Portia for dinner before attempting to choose. Act II, Scene Two Lancelot , referred to as a clown, is the servant to Shylock . He tells the audience that he is thinking about running away from his master, whom he describes as a devil. However, he cannot make up his mind about whether to run away or not because his conscience makes him guilty when he thinks about leaving Shylock. Lancelot's father, and old man named Gobbo , arrives with a basket. He is nearly completely blind and cannot see Lancelot clearly.

Gobbo asks his son which way leads to the Jew's house, meaning Shylock's house. He mentions that he is searching for his son Lancelot. Lancelot decides to have some fun with his father, and so he pretends to know a "Master Lancelot" (a term for a gentleman's son, not a servant). He informs Gobbo that "Master Lancelot" is deceased. Gobbo is clearly upset by this, and Lancelot kneels down in front of him and asks his father for his blessing. Gobbo at first does not believe that Lancelot is really his son, but then he feels his head and recognizes him. Lancelot tells his father that he is wasting away serving Shylock and that he will turn into a Jew himself if he stays there much longer. Gobbo has brought a present for Shylock, but Lancelot instead convinces his father to give it to Bassanio , whom Lancelot hopes to have as his new master. Bassanio, coming onto stage at that moment, accepts the gift of doves and tells Lancelot that he may leave Shylock and join his service.

He then orders one of the men to get Lancelot a new uniform to wear, and sends Lancelot away. Graziano arrives and tells Bassanio that he wants to join him on the trip to Belmont, where Bassanio plans to go and woo Portia. Bassanio feels that Graziano is too loud and rude and asks him if he will be able to act more appropriately. Graziano says that he can, and that he will "put on a sober habit" (2.2.171). Bassanio then agrees to take him to Belmont. Act II, Scene Three Jessica , the daughter of Shylock, meets with Lancelot and tells him that she will miss him after he leaves to go work for Bassanio. She hands him a letter to take to Lorenzo , who is supposed to be a guest of Bassanio's that night. After Lancelot leaves, Jessica remarks, "Alack, what heinous sin is it in me To be ashamed to be my father's child! But though I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, If thou keep promise I shall end this strife, Become a Christian and thy loving wife.

Jessica thus informs the audience that she is in love with Lorenzo, a Christian. She intends to meet him soon and run away from her father's house in order to marry Lorenzo. Act II, Scene Four Lorenzo, Graziano, Salerio and Solanio are preparing for a masque that night. Lancelot arrives with the letter from Jessica and hands it to Lorenzo. Lorenzo reads it and tells Lancelot to inform Jessica that he will not fail her. Lancelot leaves to bring the news to Jessica, and also to invite Shylock to Bassanio's house for dinner. After the other two men leave, Lorenzo shows Graziano the letter from Jessica. He tells his friend that he and Jessica plan to steal away from her father's house that night, along with a great deal of her father's gold and jewels. Act II, Scene Five Shylock informs Lancelot that he will have to judge for himself whether Bassanio is a better master. He then calls Jessica, hands her the keys to the house, and tells her that he must leave for dinner that evening. Lancelot tells Shylock that there will likely be a masque that night.

At this news, Shylock orders Jessica to lock up the house and not look out the windows. He says, "Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter / My sober house" (2.5.34-35). As Shylock gets ready to depart, Lancelot privately tells Jessica that Lorenzo will come for her that night. She is grateful for the message, and after Shylock leaves she comments that, "I have a father, you a daughter lost" (2.5.55). Act II, Scene Six Salerio and Graziano are part of the masquers partying through the street of Venice. They stop and wait for Lorenzo, who has asked them to meet him at a certain spot. Lorenzo arrives and thanks them for their patience. He then calls out to Jessica, who appears in the window of Shylock's house dressed as a man. She throws out a casket to Lorenzo filled with much of her father's gold and jewels. Jessica then goes back inside and steals even more ducats (golden coins) before joining the men on the street. Everyone departs except for Bassanio, who unexpectedly meets Antonio .

Antonio tells him to get to the ship heading for Belmont, because the wind has started blowing the right way and the ship is ready to depart. Act II, Scene Seven The Prince of Morocco is brought into a room containing three caskets, gold, silver and lead. Portia tells him to make his choice. The Prince reads the inscriptions on all the caskets. Gold reads: "Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire" (2.7.5). The silver casket has, "Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves" (2.7.7). Finally, the dull lead casket bears the inscription, "Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath" (2.7.9). Portia tells the Prince that the correct casket, or the one that will allow him to marry her, contains a miniature picture of her likeness. The Prince looks over all the inscriptions a second time, and decides that lead is too threatening and not worth risking anything for. He also spurns the silver, which he feels is too base a metal to hold such a beautiful woman as Portia. The Prince therefore chooses gold.

Portia hands him the key, and he opens the casket to reveal a golden skull. The skull holds a written scroll that poetically indicates that he chose superficially. The Prince departs after a hasty farewell. Portia watches him go, and remarks, "A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. / Let all of his complexion choose me so" (2.7.78-79). Act II, Scene Eight Salerio and Solanio meet in the street and discuss the hasty departure of Bassanio and Graziano for Belmont. They further tell the audience that Shylock returned home and discovered his daughter had run away with Lorenzo. Shylock then woke up the Duke of Venice and tried to stop Bassanio's ship, which had already set sail. Antonio assured Shylock that Jessica was not on board the ship, but rather had been seen in a gondola with Lorenzo. However, Shylock continues to blame Antonio for the loss of his daughter and his money. Solanio informs Salerio that Shylock was later seen in the streets crying, BLOCKQUOTE"My daughter! O, my ducats! O, my daughter! Fled with a Christian!

O, my Christian ducats! Justice! The law! My ducats and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,"] Solanio is worried about Antonio, whom he says had better repay his bond with Shylock on time, because Shylock is furious about losing his daughter and his money and blames Antonio for it. Salerio indicates that a Frenchman mentioned a Venetian vessel had sunk in the English Channel the day before. Both men hope that it is not Antonio's ship. Act II, Scene Nine The Prince of Aragon arrives in Belmont and decides to choose from among the three caskets. Portia takes him into the room and makes him recite the oath never to reveal which casket he chooses, and further to promise never to marry should he choose the incorrect casket. The Prince of Aragon agrees and starts to read the inscriptions. He rejects lead because of the ominous warning, and thinks that gold refers to the foolish populace. Instead he chooses silver which indicates he will receive what he deserves. The Prince takes the key and opens the casket to reveal a "blinking idiot" (2.9.53).

The scroll indicates that those who are self-loving deserve to be called idiots, and would not make good husbands for Portia. The Prince is upset by his choice, but is forced to leave. Portia is happy that the Prince has chosen the wrong casket. Her messenger comes into the room at that moment and informs her that a young Venetian has just arrived. Portia goes to see who it is, while Nerissa secretly wishes that it might be Bassanio. Analysis The virtue of marriage is very important for Shakespeare, who often ends his comedies with multiple marriages to signify a happy solution to many of the problems the characters have faced. Marriage is thus a way of achieving inclusion for Shakespeare, and it is notable that the characters which remain unmarried are often isolated and removed from the society, specifically Antonio and Shylock within this play. Marriage also represents a way to overcome difficulties; for Bassanio it will remove his debt, for Portia it will free her from her father's will and for Jessica is will allow her to escape her father.

Given this view of marriage, the choice of the caskets presents a horrifying risk for many of the participants, namely the threat that if they choose wrong casket they must swear to never propose marriage to a woman afterwards. In a sense, the failure to marry is as good as being castrated. In fact, Shakespeare creates this very analogy throughout The Merchant of Venice and ties it to the ability to make money breed. Thus in the first act Shylock mentions that he makes his money breed as fast as ewes and lambs. Antonio will further this metaphor in the final act, when he remarks that he is like a wether, or a castrated lamb, and thus unable to breed. For the suitors to Portia, then, swearing to never wed puts them on the same level as Antonio. By agreeing to not marry, they themselves become castrated. Lancelot the clown is one of the more interesting characters. His treatment of his father is awful, considering that his father is mostly blind and has brought a present to his son. The entire scene mimics the biblical story of Jacob and Esau, though.

The bible tells how Jacob tricked his father into giving him the inheritance by wearing wool so his father would think he was Esau. Lancelot does the same thing, by bending down and making his father "know" him by feeling his head. Shylock's character starts to emerge very strongly within this act. We see him now not only as a moneylender demanding interest, but also as a villain. He shows a marked aversion to fun, demanding that Jessica lock the door and close the windows when he finds out there will be a masque that night. However, contrary to his statement in the first act, Shylock leaves his house to enjoy a dinner with Bassanio. Much of this act therefore develops the negative aspects of Shylock character. However, the Christian faults are also exposed within this act. The faithlessness of Jessica has been an issue of discussion for many centuries, with the debate raging over whether she is justified in leaving her father. The crucial difficulty is that she does not merely run away, but she insists on stealing large amounts of her father's jewels and gold.

Thus when Graziano remarks, "Now, by my hood, a gentile, and no Jew" (2.6.51), we can only see it as ironic. Ironic because she is stealing her father's money, so he is essentially implying Christians are thieves. Jessica's actions also leave unanswered the question of why she is locked up in her father's home. The answer to this comes from an understanding of the relationship between money and breeding. Whereas in the beginning Antonio is impotent in the sense that his money does not breed, Shylock is not. Shylock further has the advantage of having a daughter. Since the Jewish lineage is passed down via the maternal line, Jessica represents a way for Shylock's family line to continue. Thus, hoarding Jessica and his gold is Shylock's way of guaranteeing his successful breeding. In fact, Solanio makes this connection between daughter and money abundantly clear when he tells us that Shylock ran through the street of Venice crying: "My daughter! O, my ducats! O, my daughter! Fled with a Christian! O, my Christian ducats! Justice! The law! My ducats and my daughter!

A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats," Thus for Shylock the simultaneous loss of his daughter and his money is in a sense the loss of his fertility. Not only does her conversion to Christianity destroy Shylock's family line, it also makes him impotent in a metaphorical sense. Jessica takes two stones with her, which represent the "testicles" of Shylock, since stone was often used to mean testicle. Thus after her theft, Shylock joins Antonio in impotence, having lost his ability to breed. Indeed, the escape of Jessica marks the turning point of Shylock's fortunes, which will lead to his eventual destruction. It is important that Jessica escapes not dressed as herself, but as a man. In fact, there is a never a scene on the Venetian streets in which a woman is present. The only way a woman can walk through the street of Venice is to dress as a man, a fact that will reinforced when Portia pretends to be Balthasar and dresses as a man before entering Venice. This is one of the primary differences between the worlds of Venice and Belmont. The three caskets each bear inscriptions that tell us about the personalities of the characters who pick them.

Gold reads: "Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire" (2.7.5). The silver casket has, "Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves" (2.7.7). Finally, the dull lead casket bears the inscription, "Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath" (2.7.9). The Prince of Morocco first chooses gold and gets a death skull. The Prince of Aragon receives the picture of an idiot. This is symbolic, for he is an old man and hence is an idiot for thinking himself deserving of a young woman. One of the most debated lines is when Portia sends the Prince of Morocco away by saying, "A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. / Let all of his complexion choose me so" (2.7.78-79). This provincial comment stands in contrast with her upbringing and nobility. However, what soon becomes clear is that Portia is a very narrow character in her sense of friends. She chooses Bassanio over the more cosmopolitan suitors because he represents her Christian and Venetian world.

Bassanio wins her because of the same thing, namely he alone of the suitors possesses the local characteristics necessary to interpret which casket to choose. Unlike Portia and Bassanio, Jessica never has to be chosen by a casket. Instead, she tosses her casket out of the window for Lorenzo to catch. Thus her relationship, unlike that of Portia and Bassanio, has no test to make sure it is a good relationship. This lack of a test will create problems later, foreshadowed by Shakespeare when Lorenzo and Jessica compare themselves to many famous failed romances. The Merchant of Venice is largely a play about interpretation. The suitors to Portia are condemned to sterility because they misread the caskets. Shylock's interpretation of the contract in 1.3 takes the "pound of flesh" seriously and literally, whereas Antonio thinks Shylock is being "kind." Later in the final scene, the outcome of the play - whether it becomes a comedic ending or a tragic one, will rest on Portia's interpretation of the law. Thus the play creates its drama and its plot through the constant interpretation of events and words.

This crucial aspect is frequently used by Shakespeare in his remaining comedies, and it forms a crucial part of the plot in Much Ado About Nothing . Scene 2 Scene 2 Bookmark this page Manage My Reading List Summary After the last, rather serious scene in Belmont, we return to Venice, and the initial emphasis here is on Launcelot Gobbo, Shylock's servant, an "unthrifty knight." Launcelot is debating with himself as to whether or not he should remain in Shylock's service; he is tempted to leave and find employment elsewhere, but he is unable to make up his mind. The decision is difficult, he says, for he feels the weight of his "conscience hanging about the neck of his heart." The comedy builds when Launcelot's father, Old Gobbo, comes onstage. Old Gobbo is "more than sandblind" and does not recognize his son. He sees before him only the dim image of a man who he hopes can direct him to Shylock's house.

Launcelot is delighted to encounter his father, whom he has not seen for a long time, and so he conceals his true identity and playfully confuses the old man with much clowning and double-talk, before revealing who he really is and kneeling to receive his father's blessing. Bassanio now enters, along with Leonardo and other followers, and he is enthusiastically talking of preparations for a dinner tonight, complete with a masque, to which he has invited his friends to celebrate his departure for Belmont, where he will begin his courtship of Portia. Launcelot is quick to note Bassanio's good mood, and he immediately speaks to him about Bassanio's hiring him as a servant. Bassanio agrees and orders a new set of livery for his new servant. Gratiano enters, looking for Bassanio, and tells him, "I must go with you to Belmont." Bassanio is hesitant, but he finally consents, urging Gratiano to modify his "wild behaviour," which Gratiano agrees to do. But he will do that tomorrow. Tonight, he says, shall be a night of merriment, a gala inaugurating his setting out for Belmont.

Analysis This scene, like Scene 1 and most of the rest of the nine scenes in Act II, deals with minor diversions and developments in the plot — the elopement of Lorenzo and Jessica, and Launcelot Gobbo's transfer of his services from Shylock to Bassanio. Almost all of this scene is taken up with the antics of Launcelot Gobbo, and it may be useful here to consider for a moment the clowns and comedy of the Elizabethan stage. Two of the most important members of any Elizabethan theatrical company were the actor who played the tragic hero and the actor who played the clown. It is obvious why the actor who played the great tragic roles was important, but it is perhaps not so easy for us to see, from the standpoint of the modern theater, why the role of a clown took on so much importance. The clowns, though, were great favorites with the Elizabethan audiences. Their parts involved a great deal of comic stage business — improvised actions, gestures, and expressions — and they had their own special routines. Launcelot, for example, would be given a great deal of leeway in using his own special comic devices.

Much here depends on the actor's "business" — mime, expressions of horror or stupid self-satisfaction, burlesque or parody movements around the stage, and so forth. This sort of scene is not written for verbal comedy (as Portia's scenes are); rather, Shakespeare wrote them to give his actors as much scope as was necessary for visual antics. Today we call these gimmicks "sight gags" or "slapstick." The dialogue itself is not particularly witty because the comedy was meant to be mostly physical. Launcelot's opening speech takes the form of a debate between "the fiend" and his own "conscience." The comedy here lies in the fact that the jester-clown Launcelot should regard himself as the hero of a religious drama, but this gives him the opportunity to mimic two separate parts, jumping back and forth on the stage and addressing himself: "Well, my conscience says, 'Launcelot, budge not.' 'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience" (18-20).

Visually, this makes for good comedy; while reading this play aloud, one can enhance this brief scene by imagining that the voice of the conscience is delivered in high, falsetto, flute-like tones; the voice of the fiend, in contrast, is delivered in low, evil-sounding growls. In addition to this clowning business, verbal confusion was also a favorite device in this sort of scene, and it occurs throughout the play. Notice, for example, the directions for finding Shylock's house which Launcelot gives to his father: "Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning of no hand, but turn down indirectly." Small wonder that Old Gobbo exclaims, "'twill be a hard way to hit!" There is more visual comedy when the two Gobbos confront Bassanio at line 120. Here, it is suggested by the lines that Launcelot bends down behind his father, popping up to interrupt him at every other line and finishing his sentences for him. This kind of comedy depends on visual and verbal confusion, especially mistaking obvious words and phrases.

Particularly characteristic of this clowning is the confusion of word meanings. Here, Launcelot speaks of his "true-begotten father," and he uses "infection" for affection, "frutify" for certify, "defect" for effect, and so on. Toward the close of the scene, two more details of the central plot are developed. First, Launcelot leaves Shylock's household for that of Bassanio; this prepares us for a similar, if a much greater defection from Shylock by his daughter, Jessica, in the following scene. It also makes it possible for Launcelot to appear at Belmont in the final act, where a little of his clowning adds to the general good humor. Second, Gratiano announces his intention of going to Belmont with Bassanio; he must be there to marry Nerissa and take part in the comedy of the "ring story," which ends the play with lighthearted teasing wit.

Question: Lancelot Gobbo is a servant of which major Shakespearean character?
Answer: Shylock